


A Taste of Honey

by felineranger



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Food Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 09:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felineranger/pseuds/felineranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rimmer loves honey</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Taste of Honey

            It had been a long time since they’d had anything to celebrate.  Hell, it had been a long time since they’d had anything to _enjoy_.  They’d been surviving off Kryten’s increasingly desperate attempts at culinary inventiveness for weeks now and even Rimmer, who’d been brought up on the worst that IO’s boarding schools could offer, and who should have been grateful that he could taste anything at all, was starting to cringe at the idea of living off moss soufflé and lichen soup.  When they’d found the derelict packed high with food supplies they’d all been overjoyed, but one discovery had made it extra special.  In one pile, Rimmer had discovered a crate filled with jars of sweet runny honey.  Rimmer _loved_ honey.

            It was one of the few luxuries he’d managed to cling to in a childhood where chocolates and sweets were for winners.  Honey was a secret taste of sugary bliss that no-one had thought to keep from him when all other treats were denied.  There were times he’d crept downstairs in the night, risking all the fury and wrath of his family, just to sneak a spoonful of honey from the pantry.

            He’d brought the crate back on board and ordered that the precious substance be strictly rationed.  This didn’t go down well with Lister and Cat, who were also feeling the strain of their recent dietary restrictions and were eager for a little luxury of their own.  Rimmer was having none of it and promised swift and forceful retribution to anyone who disregarded the new honey regulations.  One spoonful each per day; that was all that was permitted.

            Later that week, Rimmer lay in his bunk in the dead of night, the taste of honey still lingering on his tongue.  He licked at his lips.  _There’s more_ , a wicked voice in his head hissed, _there’s jars and jars of the stuff.  Nobody would ever know._   Rimmer fought the urge.  There might be 200 jars of the stuff, but it might have to last them for the rest of their lives.  _Go ooon_ , the voice urged, _you’ve spent years denied of all physical pleasure.  You’ve earned this._  Unable to resist any longer, Rimmer slipped out of bed and tiptoed towards the kitchen.  One more spoonful wouldn’t hurt...

            As he approached the darkness of the empty midsection, he saw a small light on in the kitchen.  He narrowed his eyes.  Every one else should be asleep.  He crept forward stealthily, and now he could hear soft sounds of pleasure emanating from the kitchen.  He peered in and saw Lister.

            He was leaning back against the counter, eyes closed, clad in his new white long johns that Kryten had found on the same derelict they’d found the honey.  They were a little too big, Rimmer noticed, and hung off one shoulder.  He’d rolled the legs up to stop them dragging on the floor and as Rimmer's eyes travelled downwards, they widened in disbelief.  The long johns might be too big, but in one area they were _extremely_ snug.

            Lister had a jar of honey in one hand and was dipping the fingers of his other hand into the golden viscous goo and sucking them clean with obvious delight.  Rimmer was furious.  Here was Lister flagrantly flaunting all the restrictions Rimmer had put in place, stealing the precious honey that Rimmer had come down here expressly to steal for himself and Rimmer was angry with him.  Yes.  Angry.  Incensed.  And that anger was surely the reason why he could feel his face burning red, his temperature soaring as he watched the little bastard sucking honey from his paws, as blissfully contented as Winnie the Pooh, with his tight white long johns and smooth exposed honey-hued skin.  Oh, yes.  Rimmer was burning up.

            Lister opened his eyes, one round finger still buried deep in his mouth, and saw Rimmer in the doorway.  Rimmer watched as, without changing expression, Lister’s eyes went through a whole slideshow of emotion.  Surprise and then guilt, as he realised he’d been caught; confusion as he wondered why Rimmer wasn’t yelling at him; slowly dawning shock and realisation as he saw something in Rimmer’s face that shook him; and then, all in the same slow draw of breath, Lister’s eyes narrowed and darkened with something far more enticing and wicked than stolen honey.  He drew the finger very slowly and deliberately out of his mouth, his lips glistening.

            Rimmer walked into the kitchen and faced him, neither of them saying a word.  Silently, he took the jar out of Lister’s hand and put it down on the counter.  Then he grabbed the front of his long johns, pulled them sharply down to his waist, leaving his top half bare.  He grasped Lister’s upper arms and pushed him back across the kitchen table, then picked up the jar of honey and poured the golden sticky syrup all over his naked skin and began to spread it over him.

            “What happened to rationing?” Lister gasped.

“Smeg it,” Rimmer growled, “We’ve got more.”  He kissed him, tasting the delicious sweetness on his lips and in his mouth, then pulled his t-shirt over his head and climbed on top of him.  Their chests pressed together and Rimmer felt the honey, now even slicker and runnier from their body heat, smearing over his own skin and he moaned into Lister’s mouth.  “We’re going to get...so...sticky...” Lister panted.

“Good,”

“But...you hate sticky.  You hate sticky and messy and slippery and...” Lister’s brain shifted gear and he ran out of adjectives as Rimmer’s mouth began to suck honey off his chest, “...me!”

“Yes,” Rimmer breathed, “Sticky, messy, slippery, honey-stealing little smegger.  Can’t.  Stand.  You.”  He yanked the long johns down to Lister’s feet, leaving him naked, then stepped out of his own boxer shorts.  Lister was watching him with a kind of dazed delight that made him giddy.  

            Rimmer grabbed the jar of honey and climbed back onto the table, kneeling over Lister’s chest, his erection bobbing just over his mouth.  “You want more of this?” Rimmer asked him, voice unsteady.

“More,” Lister whispered in agreement.

“Then you’re going to have to work for it,” Rimmer told him and upended the jar over his cock, covering it in a thick layer of glossy sweet liquid.  He gasped at the sensation, then gasped again at the sight of it dripping slowly off the end of his stiff red cock onto Lister’s eagerly parted lips.  Lister raised his head and, without a word, sucked Rimmer deep into his mouth.

            A few minutes later, when Lister’s lips were wet with far more than honey, he looked up at Rimmer playfully.  “You weren’t kidding when you said there would be consequences for breaking the honey regs, were you?” he smiled.

“I never joke about regulations,” Rimmer replied sternly, “And I never joke about honey.”

“So am I forgiven?”

“ _That_ wasn’t your punishment,” Rimmer told him and smiled smugly when he saw Lister’s eyes widen.  

He flipped him over and Lister moaned as he felt more warm honey drizzling lazily down his back, running across his skin and down into the crease of his buttocks.  Rimmer’s hands massaged it into his skin, spreading it over him until he was covered in it, almost from head to toe.  “Your punishment,” Rimmer panted, “Is that you don’t get any more.  I’m going to lick every trace of honey from you, every last drop.  But first...” Lister groaned as he felt Rimmer sliding into him, his cock once more gilded in the gorgeous amber fluid, his honey slick fingers wrapping around Lister’s cock, “As you’ve already wasted so much, we’re going to put it to good use.”

 

“Hey!” Cat protested the next morning, inspecting the fresh unopened jar of honey on the breakfast table.  “Who used up the last one?  There was almost a whole jar yesterday!”  He sniffed the air and glared at Lister and Rimmer who both fixed their gaze innocently in opposite directions.  “And why do you two smell like beehive?” he demanded.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Honey](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121497) by [horselizard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/horselizard/pseuds/horselizard)




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